


Sleep

by acomplicatedprofession



Series: Javier Peña Oneshots [2]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hugs, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, literally just 700 words of wish fulfillment, no spoilers for anything, our boi is sleep deprived
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acomplicatedprofession/pseuds/acomplicatedprofession
Summary: Your eyes flutter open at the sound of the front door creaking on its hinges. A few moments later, you can hear heavy steps and the sound of the kitchen lamp being turned on, the light bleeding through your bedroom door. Sitting up with a groan, you look over to the small clock the bedside table. Two in the morning.It’s better than him not coming back at all, you reminded yourself, rubbing your eyelids with your palms as you stand. Things had been hectic, and though Javier never shared any details with you, you could tell the hunt for Escobar was escalating. The past few weeks he had practically lived at the Embassy, surviving off shitty coffee and napping at his desk. You’d almost forgotten what it was like to have him home. To have his hands against you as you slept, curled into his chest. The bed had been cold for a while now.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader
Series: Javier Peña Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626754
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Sleep

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of the front door creaking on its hinges. A few moments later, you can hear heavy steps and the sound of the kitchen lamp being turned on, the light bleeding through your bedroom door. Sitting up with a groan, you look over to the small clock on the bedside table. Two in the morning.

 _It’s better than him not coming back at all_ , you reminded yourself, rubbing your eyelids with your palms as you stand. Things had been hectic, and though Javier never shared any details with you, you could tell the hunt for Escobar was escalating. The past few weeks he had practically lived at the Embassy, surviving off shitty coffee and napping at his desk. You’d almost forgotten what it was like to have him home. To have his hands against you as you slept, curled into his chest. The bed had been cold for a while now.

Wrapping your arms around your middle to meet the chill of the living room, you padded over the hardwood, movements still slow. Javier didn’t seem to notice, his back to you as he sat at the kitchen table, bringing out stacks of (presumably confidential) paperwork from his case and rummaging through them, muttering to himself. The shirt that he wore, stretched thin between the expanse of his back, looked crumpled and slept-in. _When was the last time he stayed with you, here, in his bed?_

Your brows furrowed at the sight of him, still running full-throttle in the dead of night, and you stopped a few steps away from where he sat.

“Hey,” you called out softly.

“Hey yourself,” Javier answered, turning in his chair to meet your gaze while running a hand through his hair. The flat light of the lamp did him no favors, and you could see purple shadows creasing underneath his eyes, his brow heavy. You walked closer, making your way between his parted legs with your hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He lay a kiss to the side of your jaw, mumbling to himself.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, lips parting as he lifted his head. Chuckling, you looked down at his tattered old soccer jersey that skimmed the middle of your thighs, sleeves coming to meet at the juncture of your elbows.

“And you look like shit,” you said with a smile, reaching your palms up to cradle his face. Javier nodded, sighing in agreement. Planting a light kiss against his cheek, you made to step away from him, back towards your shared bedroom. You knew he was in some deep shit and figured the best thing to do was get out of his way. Let him work through it without you bothering him.

Javier didn’t seem to feel the same way. Extending a hand to curl against your arm, he pressed his fingertips against the underside of your wrist and looked at you.

“No,” he pleaded softly, “Don’t go,” he shifted to rub his palms against your waist when you glanced at the piles of paper still on his desk, waiting to be sorted. Sighing, you faced him again and brushed the hair back from his forehead, resolve weakening with every second you spent looking into his eyes. Sparing one final glance towards the bed that peeked through the gap of the open door, you rolled your eyes with a smile and muttered a “fine.”

Sensing your defeat, Javier smiled as his hands gripped the backs of your legs, pulling you to fall into his lap. His jersey rode up your thighs as you moved, clasping your hands around his neck with your toes skimming the floor. You made to rest your temple against his chest, right at the patch of bare skin where he always left his shirts unbuttoned and sprayed cologne. You could feel him smile again as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, leaning forward to grab a stack of files.

“Promise me you’ll go to bed soon,” you mumbled, eyelids already growing heavy.

He rested a hand against the nape of your neck, fingers reaching through your hair with a soft hum.

“No promises, _mi amor,_ ” he teased.

Too tired to argue with him, you let yourself bury your face further into his neck, falling asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat and the faint scent of cigarettes.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> did i binge half of season 3 this weekend instead of studying?? yes. did i write this in 20 minutes after scrolling through the javier peña tag for 2 hours?? yes. i regret nothing. more to come. (also we're all just gonna pretend that javi used to play soccer. it's a thing)


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